


Wound

by ghostwriter00797



Category: Stretch Armstrong and the Flex Fighters (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Descriptions of Injury, Gen, I apparently enjoy torturing him too much, Jake never gets a break, Post Season 2, Reveal Fic, Rook really does have access to everything in Charter City, and there are consequences for the boys because of that, idk it's 2:27 am, if I need to tag something just let me know, likely medical inaccuracies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 11:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17283314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostwriter00797/pseuds/ghostwriter00797
Summary: He should have seen this coming.





	Wound

**Author's Note:**

> Ta-da. It's really early in the morning, but I finished this. I may or may not make it into it's own little separate series later on.
> 
> Enjoy.

The text doesn’t make sense at first. He’s just gotten home, Nathan and Ricardo have headed back to the Park house, and his father is there for the first time in quite a while. Riya doesn’t text, and Erika has no reason to. It’s from an unknown number, only on his phone for a few seconds before it disappears. He assumes it’s a prank, tucking his phone back into his jacket pocket before he walks through the front door.

**_Game over, Jake Armstrong._ **

He is so, so wrong.

* * *

 

“Jake! Welcome home son!”

There’s a package in his father’s hands. 

“I thought I’d surprise you! It’s your birthday, remember?”

It’s tastefully wrapped, dark.

“We’ll be going out before we get to celebrating, but I thought you could open one of your presents first.”

Rook’s logo is very prominently displayed on the front.

“Go on! Open it!”

As soon as the package is placed into his hands, he knows who that text was from. They have to leave.

“Can it wait Dad? Why don’t we just go out and I’ll open it with the rest later.”

There’s no clear indication of what’s in there, but it can’t be anything good. Rook doesn’t play games, and this, this is checkmate. Taking advantage of the small, shocked silence he gets from his--admittedly harsh-sounding--statement, Jake throws the package through the nearest door, grabs his father by the hands, and runs.

“Jake?! Jake, what are you doing?”

The phone vibrates once more, a very real threat sending chills down his spine. His dad is probably resisting him, but he can throw cars without breaking a sweat. One normal adult isn’t going to stop him.

They’re on the second flight of stairs when the bomb goes off. It’s powerful, shaking the building down to the foundation. Everything is swaying, which means it probably took out some of the structural support. 

“I’m really sorry Dad. You’re not gonna like this!”

With the hand that isn’t occupied, he grabs his visor. Rook is too smart to rely on only a bomb, there’s going to be men ready for him outside.

“Jake,  _ what are you doing _ ?”

The flexarium armor begins to cover him as he tugs his dad out the stairwell and into a hallway. Flickering lights distort his vision, the loud groaning of the building covering the noise when he kicks out a window.

“Jake! Jake, _ no- _ ”

He makes sure he’s got his father in a secure hold, barely taking a moment to listen to the screaming, and jumps.

“Stretch, put down the civilian and surrender!”

And there’s the Delta Team, whatever thing that is pretending to be Reynolds at the head of the attack.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

The barrage of energy blasts doesn’t surprise him. Neither does the familiar burning sensation where they hit, heat filtering through the suit. He’s got his father to worry about now, though, so instead of fighting, he stretches out an arm and swings away.

* * *

 

It takes him two hours and several close calls before he can ping Riya. Secreted away in a hidden rooftop cubby in the oldest parts of Oldtown, there’s finally time to assess the damage. Jakes knows his father has been hit. It would be a miracle if he hadn’t been, considering the amount of firepower that he has been dodging this entire time. The silence and pale face is a good indicator of injury, he’s seen it in his teammates more than a few times. He just thanks whoever is watching out for him that he’d managed to find one of the places where Riya had squirreled away a stocked first-aid kit.

He doesn’t know why he didn’t see this coming. Rook controls every piece of tech in this damned city. It made  _ so much sense  _ that he’d known--or at least heavily suspected--their true identities from day one. They hadn’t thought about it, the fact that he could monitor every phone, every tablet, every camera and scan for any indication that someone was more than what they appeared. He should have known, should have figured it out sooner, but it’s always too little, too late. And now they’re all paying the price.

He hopes that Ricardo and Nathan were able to get the rest of the Park family to safety, because if Rook knows who he is there is no way that his friends haven’t been attacked already. He doesn’t know if he wants to think about what could be happening if they failed. Right now he has an injured fath--civilian to tend to. It makes it easier if he detaches himself.

“Sir, sir can you focus on me?”

Movement, a nod and a small affirming noise. That’s good, he’s able to focus and he’s not too out of it. 

“Alright, that’s good. I’m going to check you over now, alright?”

Another nod, though it comes with a second of delay.

“Ok. I’m going to start with your head and neck and work down from there, alright?”

Jake works his way down, finding small abrasions and a few first-degree burns from close blaster fire that he cleans and dresses accordingly. He knows he’s probably missing more small things, but it’s dark in the little hidey-hole, so he has to rely mostly on touch and the response from his charge. It’s when he begins to feel optimistic that he gets to Mark’s right calf and hits something that he’s grateful he can’t see. If the screech of pain wasn’t enough to alert him of a serious wound, the slick texture of the pant leg gives it away.

“Okay, sir, I’m going to elevate your leg now. I want to get a closer look at the wound. I’ll do it on the count of three. Ready? One, two--”

He lifts a little after two, placing one of the shock blankets underneath to keep it raised up, and guides Mark to lay down shortly after. He risks moving one of the blockades in front of the entrance slightly, allowing a sliver of light in. He’s going to need to see for this. Carefully cutting the pant leg off isn’t easy, mostly because his hands are shaking. He doesn’t know why they are, he should be fine, he has to be fine because Mark needs the best care he can provide--

“Hurts.”

It’s barely a whimper, but it seems like a shout. Every part of Jake’s heart  _ aches _ hearing how scared his fath--Mark ( _ he’s got to stay detached _ ) is. This is all his fault, he knows it, and he doesn’t know how he can make this better. For now though, he has got to keep it together. 

“I know. It’s going to hurt some more, okay? Deep breaths. I’m sorry-- _ I’m so sorry-- _ ”

Jake cannot waver, so he peels the last of the blood-soaked pant leg off and pushes his own emotions back as far as they can go. The bile in his throat threatens to come up at the sight. It’s not pretty. The gash almost encircles Mark’s entire calf, at least half an inch deep. His best guess is that one of the nets the Delta team had tried to catch them with had caught as he’d dodged. Those things were made to keep someone powered by flexarium down, so they were heavy and  _ sharp _ . 

The bleeding has likely slowed down since he’s elevated the area, and it isn’t likely that he’ll need a tourniquet, but it will need stitches. So he grabs the kit, taking a second to praise Riya and her insane levels of paranoia when it came to things like this, and gets ready.

“Sir, I’m going to need to put stitches in this. I’m going to try and do this as quickly as possible, but if you need me to stop for a second, let me know.”

Jake is winging it here. He knows it, knows that Mark should be at a hospital, but he also knows that Rook would snatch him up in a second and use him as bait. So he gives Mark something to bite down on, starts stitching the best he can, and talks like his life depends on it. It’s as good of a distraction as he’ll get.

* * *

 

He hears the whine of the mobile base’s engines just as he ties off the end of the stitches. Mark is disturbingly pale, shaking, likely in shock, and Jake wraps him up in the shock blanket now that he’s got stitches in. They’re not perfect, but Mark isn’t bleeding anymore. Jake considers that a win.

“Stretch?”

He nearly starts crying when he hears her voice over the comm. 

“In here. We have an injured civilian in shock--”

She cuts him off before he can say anything further.

“I understand. Get him out here and into the mobile base as fast as you can.”

Jake has never moved faster in his life. Riya meets him at the hatch, taking Mark from his arms before he’s even halfway in. She’s as efficient as ever, getting the man into the recovery position on the nearest flat surface and making sure he’ll be close enough to monitor effectively. 

“Visor. Now.”

He hands it over. Jake doesn’t know what she’s going to do with it, but if it’ll keep Rook from tracing them he doesn’t care. It’s only hitting him now that Rook could also track them through the armor.

“Have you heard--”

“--from Nathan and Ricardo? No. The Park residence was bombed as well. From what I can pick up, Nathan led the Delta Squad away while Ricardo evacuated the rest of the family. Radio chatter indicates that neither has been captured.”

The shaking is back. Jake wonders why. He’s been in worse situations, beaten within an inch of his life and spitting in the face of death. Yet, he’s here, trembling so badly he has to grab the nearest console to stay upright, chest tight and straining as he breathes.

“Jake, are you alright?”

There are little black spots dancing in his vision, the world swaying back and forth, and before Jake can assure her that he’s fine--

The world goes blank.


End file.
